


Vanilla Build

by nullesk0



Series: Custom Models [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gender Dysphoria, Internalized Transphobia, Nonbinary Character, Questioning, Sawmill, Suicide mention, Trans Female Character, femscout - Freeform, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24065860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nullesk0/pseuds/nullesk0
Summary: Scout has been doing a lot of thinking lately, too much. Maybe some words (if you can call them that) with a certain mercenary will help?
Series: Custom Models [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736230
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	Vanilla Build

Scout always liked getting posted to Sawmill. The rain was comforting.

Plus, it hid the tears when he was crying.

Not that he was crying, because real men didn't cry. And if anything, Scout was definitely a real guy. A real man. Whatever.

  
Anyway, right now he was sitting in the rain, soaked to the bone and definitely not crying, on top of the roof of the abandoned barn across from the waterfall.  
Between fights, Scout liked to take Bonk breaks on the logs floating in the pool of water; but right now, he could barely even see the falls through the water in his eyes. the rain water, of course.

Another good thing about Sawmill was that no one ever wanted to go out in the rain, if they could help it. Not even Sniper, he just stayed in his camper.

Which was why it was even more of a surprise than it would normally be when Scout heard the hatch clank shut behind him. Jolting around and wiping his face, he saw the Pyro closing the boarded up window Scout used to get onto this particular part of the roof.  
"Py--Pyro! Whatcha doin' out here, huh? It's uh, it's raining." Scout sniffed and looked away at his poor argument.  
"hm mm mmp hm hu hm hmm hr hmng."  
Scout frowned. As usual, talking to the Pyro was all but pointless.  
"Man, you probably don't even understand what I'm sayin', do ya."  
The Pyro's head tilted.  
"Yeah, that's what I thought." Scout turned back to look at the waterfall. "Must be nice, you're always off in your own world. You don't need to worry about stuff."  
"Mmph hmp mph mmp?"  
Scout stared at the Pyro.  
"I guess I could bounce ideas off of you, huh? You're not real likely to go and blab to the others."  
This time, the Pyro just turned back to look at the woods around them.  
Scout sighed. He wasn't one to talk to things. It made him feel crazy, and no matter what those lame newspapers in Teufort might say, he was definitely not crazy. At least, not the kind where you talk to yourself. And though talking to the Pyro barely passed the threshold of 'talking to yourself', The Pyro being there might make it easier to get some of these thoughts out of his head. And if Scout could get these thoughts out, maybe they wouldn't come back to bother him.

The Scout and The Pyro sat on the roof, watching the rain-bloated river fall over the cliff. They sat and waited; and waited some more, while the Pyro kept one glass lens trained on the Scout. Meanwhile, the scout struggled, picking at the knot of his thoughts, trying to find a place to start. Occasionally, scout would wiggle or open his mouth, and the Pyro would look over, only for the scout to jerk his head back and quickly close his mouth, as if afraid the words would leap out if not barricaded.  
Finally Scout looked down at his feet and shuffled them a little.

"Sometimes I feel like I wish I could stop breathing."  
"mmn?"  
Scout looked up, realizing what he had just said.  
"No, no, not like that. Like, do you ever sometimes think about how you'll have to breath for the rest of your life? You'll never be able to stop breathing for the rest of your life."  
Scout had begun gesticulating wildly.  
"That's like 80 years! or, like, 20 for you. But still! You have to be you forever! You can't ever stop breathing, or eating, or drinking. You just have to be you until you die, still you."  
The Scout sighed. Clearly he hadn't been able to get his thoughts in order.  
"How do _you_ do it? You don't seem to care about what anyone thinks about you, huh? Hell, you even got a purse in your locker!" Scout threw his hands out in frustration.  
"Mm Hmmp hm mmnphmm."  
"I've got seven brothers plus my mom to not disappoint. Not to mention all of you guys. I can't let my guard down for even a second or I might give something up. And if that happens…"  
Scout looked down at the pond below.  
"What if I really am... a- a-” He clenched his fists, tight enough to hurt. “One of those weirdos!"  
"Hmmp hmm mmph hmmphm m hmmphm?"  
Scout sighed.  
"I... sometimes I have these thoughts, like about a different life, kind of? Like, what if I'd been born... different? What would happen? What would I be like? Would I..." Scout sighed again, a heavy sigh, from deep within his ribcage.  
"But I'll never know, I guess. because I'm just gonna have to be the same person forever. I mean, you can't change yourself, not that much. And even if you could, what could you really do with this as a starting point?" the Scout gestured down, indicating his whole body.  


The silence stretched on for a minute, rain drumming on the rooftop as Scout felt tears prickle in his eyes again, the reminders of how he felt about himself and his body only spiking the pain in his chest.

Pyro reached over and poked the Scout's arm. Scout jumped; he had just about forgotten that the Pyro was there.  
Pyro gestured for Scout to follow it into the abandoned barn they were sitting atop. They pulled up the hatch and climbed inside the loft area.  
"What's up Mumbles?"  
Scout rubbed his arms. He hadn't realized how cold he had gotten. He looked outside. When did it get so dark?

The Pyro turned and pulled out its favorite lighter and a length of nylon rope wrapped in a knot. The Scout's eyebrow raised. Then the Pyro lit the rope on fire. The Scout's other eyebrow raised. The small fire burned steadily in the Pyro's gloved hand, the rope melting into a nasty smelling pile of black goo.  
"Uh, Pyro, I get that you like burnin' stuff, but I'm not a--" He was about to say 'freak like you', but thought twice. "I'm not as into it as you are."  
"Hmm hmmp hmm huh hmmphmp."  
"What?"  
The Pyro took the still-burning clump of nylon and squished it; forming and pulling and stretching until it opened its hands and revealed a burning, black, gooey duck.  
"Woah..." The Scout reached out to touch the duck, but the Pyro pulled back and wagged a finger at the Scout. Reaching over to the hatch, the Pyro pried it open and stuck the napalm duck out into the rain. The Scout stood and watched while the Pyro held it out in the cold rain until the flames sizzled and the nylon cooled. Pyro poked the duck a few times to make sure it was solid and cool enough to touch, then held it out to the Scout.  
"For me?"  
"Mm hhmm!" The Pyro nodded happily. Scout gently took the blackened duck and inspected it. It looked just like a regular store bought rubber ducky, just as good as all the others despite being made out of gross, melted, burned up rope.

Scout felt tears start to prick his eyes. He wasn't sure why.  
"Hey, man, thanks for listening to me ramble." As the Scout looked up, Pyro was already halfway down the ladder to the loft they were standing on.  
"Mmmph pmmhmm, mmph hm mm mmph mm hmm mmp hmmph!"  
The Pyro waved as they climbed down the ladder one handed.

Scout smiled and wiped his eyes. Even though he was pretty sure that the Pyro had no idea what he had said this whole time, somehow he felt a lot better. He looked at the nylon duck as the rain pounded the roof and the waterfall roared in the pond.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this waayyy back when i was an egg. I got better.
> 
> Thanks for reading, tell me what you think!


End file.
